Alaska
by The Ticker
Summary: Russia and Canada bond over a mutual dislike of America, and love for Alaska. Oneshot


Mathew was pouting.

He sat there, staring at that bit of land just to his west. He knew it was immature to pout, he knew he really should have seen this coming, but still. _Still_. He'd always secretly hoped that Alaska would be his. Then Canada would be this tidy block of country to the north of America. A nice, full chunk of land, uninterrupted.

But now his brother had finally done what he'd always been meaning to do.

Alaska was a state.

He sighed and plopped down into the snow, looking longingly across the border which he had always hoped would one day be erased, at the land that he had hoped would one day be part of Canadian land.

But once Alfred made something a state it was final. No one got to un-state a state. He'd fought a whole war to keep all of the southern states from becoming their own country. Canada knew his dreams were shattered.

"Don't worry, I hate him too."

Mathew looked up, tilting his head back far enough to see who was talking. His eyes widened as he saw a very tall figure who was blocking out the sun with his head. A nervous grin crept across his mouth as he stared at the country who he least wanted to see ever.

"Russia! Erm. M-Mr. Braginsky! Erm- ah." He stammered as the man walked from behind Mathew to sit down next to him. The Canadian stared as he set down the chunk of pipe between them.

"Ivan, is fine," he said, looking across the boarded to the newly made state.

Mathew swallowed, trying to get rid of the uncomfortable dryness at the back of his throat. He took a nervous glance at the piece of pipe between them and cleared his throat.

"W-what what are you doing here Mrum-- Ivan?" he asked, trying to sound as polite and casual and friendly as possible while staring at the face of _pure terror_.

"Saying goodbye," he said, taking out a flask from within his coat and unscrewing the cap with his thumb. He glanced at the small man next to him and held the flask in his direction. When Mathew shook his head he took a sip, "Now that that _huesos_ has made Alaska a state I'll never get to see him again. They grow up so fast but you can't help but feel sentimental, you know?"

Mathew tilted his head and looked at the Russian, who was staring across the border, not really looking at anything.

"Why are you saying goodbye?" he asked when Ivan didn't continue.

"Oh, you did not know?" Ivan asked, looking over at Mathew and then across the border again, "I'm Alaska's mother."

The pride with which this was said baffled Mathew beyond all reasoning. He had never thought Russia to be capable of being any sort of parental figure. Much less a maternal figure. He looked across the border again as well. Then held out his hand for the flask. Ivan looked at the hand, and then at his flask, before attaching the two.

Mathew took a sip of the flask and toasted Alaska.

"And you _know_ he's not going to actually _do_ anything with him, you know?" Mathew said, handing the flask back to Ivan. He'd emptied the flask, for the third time, if he was counting correctly, which he probably wasn't.

"You know hes just gonna… he'll just leave it and eventually they'll build a bridge. To nowhere! You know? Of course you know. It'll never _do_ anything. Never _become president_ or anything… he's just a… a …what was your word? _Huesos_. What does that mean?"

"Cock sucker."

Mathew laughed and leaned back, "That is exactly what he is!"

Ivan nodded, switching out flasks from his coat and unscrewing the cap of this one, taking another sip. While the Canadian next to him was quite obviously smashed; he didn't seem to have been affected by the amount of alcohol they had consumed that afternoon.

Mathew stopped babbling for a moment and leaned his head on Ivan's arm, though it was more like he tilted sideways and hit the Russian, but the affect was the same. He looked down at the yellow blond head on his arm and smiled. He brought up a gloved hand and patted the Canadian's head.

"You should…" Mathew said, blinking a few times and turning his head to bury his face in the sleeve of Russia's coat, "You should come over more often. This is… fun. This is fun."

Ivan smiled brightly, "I would love to!" he said.

"Are you going to miss it?"

"Miss what?"

The Canadian made a motion towards the Alaskan border, "That."

"Oh, well," the Russian said, looking over there with a vague, pleased smile, "You will all eventually become one with Russia. I am not terribly worried."

Mathew blinked a few times against the coat and leaned more of his weight against the rock of a Russian, "If you get Alfred to become one with you," he said, "Can I have Alaska?"


End file.
